


Hypocrisy

by merakily (fengbi)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, News Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 22:05:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8418859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fengbi/pseuds/merakily
Summary: The media is out for blood and England is their newest victim. America drops by to remind England that he isn’t a bad person.





	

The sound of a key turning in England’s front door didn’t phase him.

 

Curled up at the foot of his couch, England was wearing an ugly sweater. The sleeves were too long, stretching far past the tips of England’s fingers. It was probably something America had left behind from a past visit. England didn’t know; he had simply pulled on the first thing he pulled out of his dresser. A thick flannel blanket was draped loosely over England’s shoulders. Although the fireplace was burning, England was shivering.

 

England heard the front door open, but heeded it no mind. 

 

It could have been the Queen coming to grill him over his carelessness, a burglar breaking into his house, an assassin hired by some vengeful Lord, a drunk locksmith who somehow made his way to England`s front door, Hungary being nosy, or one of his brothers coming to yell at him for letting his temper get the best of him. Again.

 

It was America.

 

With his loud, clunking footsteps, America made his way over to where England laid in a sad lump. England stared forlornly at the tendrils of fire, not bothering to turn his head or acknowledge America’s presence. He could feel gloved hands on his back, though, gently easing out some tension and lifting the blanket. Shaking out the crinkled folds in the blanket, America wrapped it back around England’s shoulders.

 

“Hey, everyone wants to be a victim. It’s not your fault, you know,” America said, bending down over the top of England’s couch. America crossed his arms over England’s chest, pulling him into an awkward backhug. 

 

Still fixated on the flickering flames, England barely acknowledged America’s words. “You should take off your jacket, love.” He hadn’t looked at America, or America’s arms, but England could feel the rough, heavier material of America’s ski jacket. “You’ll melt in here.”

 

America didn’t budge. “England...you didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

With a hazy cloud in his eyes, England’s hands reached up to lightly pat America’s forearm before pulling America’s arms away from his chest. The sleeves of England’s sweater covered his hands. America refused to budge.

 

“England…” America said nothing else, but the deafening silence conveyed everything he needed to say.

 

“My Prime Minister thinks I should be locked up. Stripped of my government jobs I’m not supposed to influence my people but yet I turned them all against my Prime Minister. Against me.” Finally looking away from the fire, Arthur’s eyes flickered down to study a frayed thread sticking out from the sleeve of his sweater. His voice was so dejected, so devoid of emotion. Knowing the tabloids and media were rarely able to affect England so deeply, America wondered what England’s Prime Minister, what his government, could possibly have said to bring him down so low.

 

“But it’s not like they can act all innocent. So you called your prime minister a bloody buffoon. It’s not like he hasn’t been called something worse. The BBC calls him worse things by the hour,” America said. He leaned down further, so his cheek rested against England’s cheek. 

 

Recoiling, England pulled away slightly. “The BBC is not a nation. The BBC does not work with Parliament everyday.” Miniscule droplets of water dotted England’s downcast lashes.

 

“The BBC influences a lot more people than you, dear.”

 

“But I am the people.”

 

“And you said exactly what your people thought. It’s not like your Prime Minister is all that popular anyway. England, you’re not a politician. Don’t let them treat you like you are one.” America loosened his hold on England. He pulled off his gloves and unceremoniously dumped them in England’s lap. Taking England’s hands in his, America stroked the tops of England’s hands with his thumbs.

 

England opened his mouth, but was cut off by America. “Darling, the only ones at fault are the ones who hacked into your computer, into your private life.”

 

“Haven’t you heard what they’ve been saying about me? I’m a traitor to myself.” England sniffed. Unconsciously, his head tilted until he was, once again, resting on America.

 

Sighing, America stepped around the couch so that he could kneel in front of England. Releasing one of England’s hands, America cupped England’s face so that England had to look at America.

 

“People only say those things so they can act like they’re superior,” America said, with fire in his eyes. “They aren’t. You know they aren’t. England, you always said that people are always quick to judge others. You said that it’s human nature for us, and for our people, for everyone to talk that way. You have opinions about your boss, I have opinions about mine, and China has some opinion about his, even if he pretends he doesn’t.

 

“They’re only making a media circus out of this because it’ll sell. The media loves a good witch hunt. Everyone only says those terrible things about you because they want to think of themselves as better people when really they’re just lucky enough to have never been caught talking about others. It’s not your fault some asshole hacker out there thought it’d be cool to violate your privacy. They just want to convince themselves they’re better people than you, but they aren’t. Besides, if your Prime Minister hasn’t figured out by now that you think he’s thick headed buffoon, then that’s his problem that he can’t read social cues.

 

“England, darling, the only ones who should be ashamed of themselves are the ones who violated and exposed your personal thoughts. Let them pretend that they’re only a higher moral ground. Let them act superior. Someday, the tide of public opinion will turn against them. For now just keep trooping on, yeah?”

 

At the end of America’s speech, a fresh tear had trickled out of the corner of England’s eye. With his hand will cupping England’s cheek, America wiped the tear away with his thumb.

 

Smiling weakly, England said, “Thank you, America. I’m sorry for troubling you like this.”

 

America grinned back.

 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

**Author's Note:**

> Though I am trying to make a political statement here, this was originally written to reflect a personal circumstance. 
> 
> I just want to emphasize that if you are going after other people for having a different opinion than you, you’re a terrible person. This applies to everyone, regardless of liberal or conservative, because let’s be honest, social media is perfect fodder for witch hunts. Because not enough people want to have rational and reasonable discussions and everyone wants to be a victim.


End file.
